


Memories of Maya

by ClaireKat



Category: Oban Star-Racers
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot, because it's literally always the same, i never tag my writing as anything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireKat/pseuds/ClaireKat
Summary: Spirit is awoken by an approaching storm and finds himself unable to go back to sleep, distracted by the thoughts that arise concerning two surprisingly familiar faces.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aepaex](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aepaex).



> This is a little sad but also there is hope at the end so I hope that makes up for the darker plot. I wrote this fic for a really dear friend of mine, Apex, who has been putting up with a lot (correction: all) of my shit lately and has been helping me manage some things more than I can put into words. I’m so deeply grateful to her and thankful to know her and I know this is just a short fic, but it’s the most I feel I can do right now to show you how much I appreciate you (and hopefully give Spirit some appreciation too)! Thank you Apex and I hope you and everyone else who reads this enjoys!

A crack of distant thunder awoke him with a start. Spirit clutched the blanket he was wrapped in with both hands, trembling a bit alongside the tremor of the sound. Just a nightmare, just another storm…that’s what he tried telling himself. There was nothing for him to be afraid of, no ghosts from his past clawing their way to the present to torment him, even if he felt he might deserve it.  The lingering echoes of the booming, reverberating sound made Spirit’s hair stand on end; not an unfamiliar feeling per se, although Spirit usually preferred to be the one to voluntarily raise them. The unsettling noise also brought an uncomfortable, melancholy, tragic memory to the forefront of his mind, one that he had been valiantly trying to retire ever since he had come into contact with  _ her.  _

It was almost as if fate had brought them together, especially considering the circumstances and the relative size of the universe. Of course, he couldn’t really be sure of anything after having only a few casual glances to inspect the dark horse Earth Team. It had been quite a few years, but Spirit’s memory was also unnaturally impeccable; at least in the eyes of someone who wasn’t a Phils. He remembered the adrenaline of that amazing race on Earth, the thrill of facing off against someone who was so close to him in both skill and daring. It was truly one of the most exhilarating and exciting races of his life…and now, he couldn’t help but look back on it with a tinge of both sadness and loss. 

He hadn’t known that woman, the great Earth Star Racer pilot Maya, personally. He couldn’t even recall ever having a conversation with her, or at least hearing her say any words to him that weren’t the scarce but sincere well wishes she gave him before the race. Despite their lack of communication, he couldn’t deny that he had sensed a remarkable air about her before she strapped herself into her Star Racer for the last time. Powerful, daring, compassionate, and driven…her final farewell, that wave for him to get back, to protect himself, was the last time he or anyone else would ever see her bright, beautiful, sensitive face. 

Another crash of thunder combined with the sound of her Star Racer exploding in his mind, and Spirit carefully observed the repetitive scene that had buried a seed of regret and disappointment in his heart. Like rewinding a movie, his photographic memory recalled every detail as though it was happening in real time, at least the parts that were stored away from his own perspective of the event. He clutched his blanket tighter, turning to the window as he watched the gray clouds rolling towards the racing pits, the energy of a roiling storm stirring within them.

The girl who came to his mind now though, this new Earth Team pilot, she had Maya’s fire and tenacity. Her aura was slightly different, yet another indication that there was no way he was reliving this concerning and upsetting part of his past. Despite his certainty, he had a sneaking suspicion that they were related in some way; the similarity of their auras was too uncanny to be a coincidence, no matter how varied and proliferous he knew the human race to be.  There was also the matter of the Earth Team’s manager…Spirit could also recall his form, younger and with a much different atmosphere about him than the one he presented now. 

The pilot and the manager…both of them were so familiar, so reminiscent of the forms that existed in his memory that he still wondered if he could have been transported to the past. Or perhaps it was an alternate universe, considering the defining list of traits that he had instantly noticed, the physical and emotional appearances that didn’t line up properly with the figures preserved in his mind. This new Earth pilot was smaller, with different hair and facial tattoos, but a relatively similar build and those eyes…kind eyes that reminded him of Maya’s expression even in the midst of realizing, accepting, and succumbing to her terrible fate. The team manager, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

He was essentially the same person on the outside that he had been when he was forced to watch his life blow up in front of him. When Spirit had noticed Maya waving to him and the small child he held before she had boarded her Star Racer, he could tell that there was an unbreakable bond between them, a connection formed by love, adoration, and trust that would have astonished and impressed anyone who could have noticed it like Spirit could. Now he had aged somewhat, changed his attire to fit the role that he occupied as the spearhead of a Star Racer team that had been deemed worthy of the Great Race of Oban. But the  _ type  _ of person that he was, the sense that Spirit got from him now…it was black, cold, lonely, and held together by a steel net of self-loathing. 

If Spirit ever passed by him while wandering to and from the pit and the race track, he always noticed an overwhelming air of hatred, confusion, sadness, and most surprising of all, fear. Spirit held his head, ruffling his hair a bit, wishing that he could figure out exactly what all the pieces of this puzzle meant when they combined. Perhaps if he spent more time with them, or observed more of their races, he would be able to notice something that would put said pieces together for him. It wasn’t that he felt he had to make amends for anything, or that he wouldn’t be able to move on if he didn’t figure out what it was about the situation that ensnared him in these thick, knotting thoughts. Mostly he just wanted closure for himself, for his own feelings towards that terrible tragedy as much as anyone would.

Thunder and lightning danced and sang in the sky with increased frequency as the storm drifted closer, unimpeded in its course. Spirit curled up in his hammock once again, one of the few things that had become the best home away from home he could hope for, as he reorganized his thoughts and tried to ignore the obnoxious, overwhelming weather. Tomorrow would be another day, and another race. The skeletons of his past certainly weren’t going anywhere, no more prevalent or painful than they had been since that day. He had time, he had hope, and he was starting to think he had the two people here that could possibly help him put  that unsettling event to rest for good. Hopefully, somehow, he might even be able to move forward with them. 


End file.
